"I thought I'd take you out for yogurt later, but here's a fortune cookie to tide you over," he added, reaching into a small brown bag.
"I love fortune cookies!" she exclaimed, her smile returning as she snatched the little treat from his hand.
James sat amazed at the joy the smallest thing could provide her. It was nice to be around someone so enamored with everything—so different from the typical Southern California girl. He found her enchanting. He watched as she cracked the cookie open and unraveled the small strip of paper hidden within, popping a crispy piece in her mouth.
"You will soon find fulfillment in your career and great prosperity," she read aloud, giggling. "Go ahead. Read yours," she coaxed.
Seeing the delight on her face made him excited too. He bit into his cookie and pulled the fortune from between his teeth, demolishing the treat as he crunched down with his jaw.
"Lucky number seven, five—"
"Come on! Stop clowning around, Jim!"
"Okay, okay," he said with mock fear. He continued, "In the near future, you will find the treasure of a lifetime."
"Wow, sounds like you're going to be a rich man, James," she teased, getting up to clear the table.
He watched her walk into the kitchen, her skirt swinging around her legs with her lovely back exposed.
"I like your dress," he called after her.
"Really?"
"I do."
"Thank you. I made it myself," she said, but he already knew that.
She returned with her laptop and took up responding to the blog comments. Another fifty or so posted while she ate lunch. She let a sigh escape her lips.
"What's wrong?" James asked.
"I can't get on top of this blog. Katrina answers every comment, every question. Some of the things her fans ask take some research. I've never seen this many posts before. At this rate, I'll be here until midnight again."
"Let me know if you want my help. I'd be happy to do some of the research for you," he said.
"Really? I've got three questions about an art deco jewelry designer in Paris. Care to search the internet for pictures of the work of Jacque Delepres?"
"I'm on it!" he replied, heading to the kitchen to retrieve his own computer.
The afternoon progressed with Ireland passing on a few questions at a time and James coming up with photos, answers, and witty remarks in response to Katrina's fans. At four, he suggested they get some fresh air and gelato.
"I know a great place down by the beach. It's just a few minutes away, and we could take a stroll while we enjoy our dessert," he suggested.
"Sounds good," she said.
She'd made quite a bit of progress with the blog, and thankfully, no new comments came in while she worked. She could use a break from staring at her screen. James stood at the door, waiting for her.
"Let's take my car. The Filthy Beast needs a break."
"At least it's paid for," she said.
He cast her a sideways glance, and they both burst out laughing. She knew what he wanted to say.
"I know, I know. It would be really weird if it wasn't paid for!" she said, laughing.
"You took the words right out of my mouth!" he managed to croak out between guffaws.
Landi chose a hazelnut gelato while James picked chocolate. He took her free hand and led her down the Santa Monica Steps, which traversed the hill, known as the California Incline, to Pacific Coast Highway. When the traffic light changed, they dashed across the busy thoroughfare to the beach beyond. They stayed on the cement bike trail, thus avoiding getting sand in their shoes. Occasionally a local on roller blades sped past them, causing Ireland to laugh and squeeze Jim's hand. Her kept hers tight within his grasp.
When they'd polished off their cones, they turned back towards where he'd parked his car. A shiver shook Landi as a cool breeze rolled in off the ocean.
"Cold?" James asked, releasing her hand to wrap an arm around her shoulder before she could answer.
She allowed herself to enjoy his touch, snuggling closer. His body heat warmed her and protected her from the wind. In no hurry to return to the apartment, she enjoyed the fresh sea air, inhaling the crisp oxygen deep into her lungs.
"I've never been in the ocean," she said, giving him a fleeting look before turning her gaze to the ground.
"Is that your secret for the day?" he asked, grinning.
"I guess it is."
"Hmm, not very juicy, Ireland. You got anything else?"
They'd reached the traffic light and waited for it to turn so they could safely cross the busy street.
"No. Your turn," she said, gazing up at him.
Kissing her seemed the most natural thing in the world. James started to lower his head to capture her lips, but he caught himself in time. The light changed, stopping traffic. He tugged on her arm, pulling her across the highway and up the steep Santa Monica Steps.
"One of my men didn't make it back from our last mission," he said in a low tone once they'd reached the top of the incline.
Landi bent at the waist, gasping for air. He'd taken the stairs at a fast clip, as if in training for some athletic event. She couldn't believe he didn't break a sweat or even breathe hard while her chest heaved, her lungs desperate for air.
"I'm sorry," she said, panting.
"You're out of shape," he commented in a matter-of-fact tone, unsure whether she was sorry for the loss of his man or because she couldn’t keep up on the steps. She'd held up far better on their desert hike. He didn't know if she even heard his confession. "I can rectify that and your lack of ocean experience, starting this weekend," he added.
She raised an eyebrow. Her lungs wheezed every time she inhaled, but at least she no longer felt she needed to catch her breath.
"What do you have in mind?" she said as they reached his car.
"A day at the beach. I'll pick you up Saturday morning around nine."
Back at the apartment, she watched Jim from behind her long lashes, trying to keep him from noticing her gaze. He stared at his computer screen as if concentrating on some difficult-to-solve problem. She could no longer focus on her work, so she decided to pick up the clothes she'd left at Zippy Dry Cleaners and check the mail.
"I'll be back in a few minutes," she said, slipping from the apartment.
He didn't look up from his laptop, nor did he acknowledge her words. Landi ran her errands and returned with an armful of cleaned and bagged clothing. She knew Katrina liked to have her clothes aired out after a visit to Zippy's, so she carefully removed the plastic bags and draped the dresses, suits, and blouses over the sofa and love seat in the living room. Then, she tiptoed into the kitchen and made some coffee.
She handed Jim a mug, and he inhaled the steam coming off the piping hot beverage. She took her seat across from him and waited for the verdict as he took a sip.
"Not bad, Landi. I'm impressed," he said, smiling.
He assumed his normal happy-go-lucky façade, but it didn't fool the girl. She'd spent too many years observing people, interpreting their nuances, facial expressions, eyes, etcetera. All this close contact with James had not been for naught. She could read him pretty well.
"I'm sorry about your friend who didn't make it back," she started in a soft voice. "Do you want to talk about it? I know it must have been terrible for you," she added, then waited for his response.
Stillness reigned for a minute or two as he fixed his gaze on her, searching deep in her eyes. She allowed him to probe there, completely open to his stare. While the silence might make others uncomfortable, Ireland enjoyed the quiet moment, somehow knowing he needed to reassure himself of her sincerity, her trustworthiness. She felt his pain must be profound and that he needed to share it with someone. Otherwise, he never would have made that confession earlier.
As James explored Landi's green eyes, he felt himself weaken. He'd never met anyone who appeared so open, so willing to let another look into their soul. Trained in interrogation techniques, Jim had
retrieved information from many prisoners without them even realizing what they'd revealed. He hadn't been taught how to deal with someone so innocent and trusting. Should he confide any of the truth in her?
A small part of him wanted to crush her and be done with it, saving himself any pain. How easy would that be? He already knew her worst fears. She'd readily shared them with him. It dawned on him that he wasn't one hundred percent in control of their relationship. The situation, novel for Jim, made him uneasy. He couldn't break away from the girl's bottomless stare as he battled with himself over what to do next.
She watched as his grey eyes gaped at her own. Back at the California Incline, they'd shifted from bright blue to the same color as the pigeons who strutted around the Gemology Institute each morning looking for handouts. With his irises this shade, James appeared dangerous—nothing like the fun-loving man with warm, deep blue, smiling eyes. Now, she could see him as the military man she'd heard about. She forced herself to trust him, even though she felt as if he tried to force his way into her soul with his steely, intense stare.
"I blame myself. I don't know why I made it back and he didn't. I can't help it. I've tried to put it out of my mind. I know all the counseling tricks, all about survivor's remorse, but none of it helps," he admitted.
She reached across the table and placed her hand next to his, grazing her smallest finger against his rough thumb, and gave him time to appreciate the gesture. Eventually, he hooked a digit around hers, mindlessly rubbing the outside of her ring finger.
"Without knowing any specifics, I'm certain there's a reason you came home, Jim. Life and death are in God's hands, and He chose to spare you. I imagine it takes time to adjust to something as horrendous as what you experienced. In the meantime, be kind to yourself, please."
He watched as the girl forced a smile to her lips. James felt she'd wrapped him around the little finger he'd just trapped with his own, and he wrestled with the distressing thought.
Chapter 10
-Life's A Beach-
Ireland slipped her board shorts on over her one-piece bathing suit, then pulled a long-sleeved rash guard over her head. With her fair skin, she had to take major precautions against sun burns. She bet James normally escorted bikini-clad, baby oil-drenched beauties to the beach. He'd get a surprise today. She had a hard time not thinking about him every minute. She even imagined she could smell his presence when she went to bed last night! She dreamed Bergamot, spice, and the scent of leather swirled about her.
She half-hoped her appearance today would make him realize she wasn't his type. Still, when she arrived at work Friday, she felt disappointment when he failed to appear.
His note stated he had to spend time at the office. She didn't know if he'd driven to San Diego or just downtown LA. Either way, his disappearance left her free to have lunch with Kiki. She'd enjoyed chatting with her new friend over Thai food. The Hawaiian was so sophisticated and glamorous— completely different from Ireland. The former receptionist seemed shocked when she told her of her working conditions with James in the apartment. But, their conversation quickly shifted to talk of Kiki's engagement and the amazing pink diamond ring she sported.
Katrina's best friend stated she wanted a long engagement, while her fiancée pushed for a quick wedding. They'd compromised and agreed to play it by ear for a few months. She hoped to pursue her career for at least a year before settling down. But then again, a long-distance relationship had no attraction for the Hawaiian.
"I hope we can do this again soon," Landi said when they parted.
"Count on it, Ireland. Now that Noble's back in Texas, I've got time on my hands. I'll call you soon," she promised.
A loud knock brought Landi back to the here and now. Her stomach fluttered when she checked the clock and realized Jim had probably arrived. She took a quick look in the mirror and jogged down the steps, checking the peep hole before opening her door.
"Good morning," she said, trying to fight off the jitters.
"Miss me?" James said with a wink.
"As a matter of fact, I did. Let me grab my sunscreen and hat, and we can go," she said, retreating back up the stairs.
She gathered her things from a chair and turned to find Jim right behind her. He'd trailed her into the apartment, and she caught him giving her the once-over, a faint smile playing across his lips.
"Ready?" he asked, lifting an eyebrow.
He could make the simplest statement sound heavy with hidden meaning. She nodded and headed for the door, ignoring his playful tone and the way his words and facial expressions flustered her. James stayed at her heels. Outside, Sizzle rubbed up against his legs, then snaked around his ankles as Landi locked her apartment.
"Oh, it's you again, is it?" she said, glancing down. "When I got home Thursday, I found him in the house. He must have slipped in when I left for work that morning. Starting to take liberties, aren't you, Sizzle?"
She ran her hand over the cat's ears, smiling up at James. She saw him clench his jaw and noticed the small pulse that throbbed below his ear whenever he got upset or angry. She figured he was disappointed with her appearance and now regretted committing to spending the day with her. Landi swallowed the lump that formed in her throat. Unfortunately, it went straight to the pit of her stomach.
James couldn't believe he hadn't noticed the alley cat slip in when he left after searching her apartment. He was getting messy, allowing the alluring girl to distract him.
At the beach, Jim pulled two boogie boards from his trunk, along with a blanket roll, a brown grocery bag, and a small cooler. Landi removed her canvas tennis shoes, knotted the laces together, and slung them over her shoulder for the trip across the sand. She carried the boards, and he lugged the rest of the items. The marine layer still hovered above, blocking the sun and keeping temperatures cool.
He unrolled the blanket, revealing another throw within. Without another soul in sight, the couple had privacy to spare. The masses usually waited for the sun to make its appearance before heading to the beach. Jim spread out the large quilt, and they both took a seat. Landi hugged her knees to her chest, attempting to keep warm, before he wrapped the smaller cover around them both, moving close to her. He reached for the brown bag and handed it to Ireland.
"Your choice," he said.
She peered into the sack, welcoming the sight of Styrofoam cups and two doughnuts. She pulled out an iced pink pastry and yanked the lid from a coffee cup, inhaling the tantalizing aroma before taking a sip and handing James the bag.
"You thought of everything," she said, her voice filled with appreciation.
He devoured his treat in two bites and gulped down half his coffee. It became obvious to Ireland some time ago that James loved his food.
"You must work out a lot," she said.
"What makes you say that?" he asked, pride spreading across his face.
"Because you eat like a horse," she replied, then added, "why, James, I think you're blushing!"
"Hush, Kumquat!" he ordered, tousling her hair with his free hand.
She'd tied her locks in to a loose braid at the nape of her neck, but she still had plenty of free tresses framing her face and on top of her head. He presumed she commented on his muscles when she mentioned working out, not his eating habits. The heat he felt on his neck and face came only partially from embarrassment.
"As soon as this mist burns off, I'm going to get you out there," he pointed to a wave advancing towards the shore, "and give you a good work out. You're too puny," he added for good measure.
She laughed over his words as he continued berating her.
"You've got no lung capacity, no muscle mass," he said, grabbing her upper arm and giving it a good squeeze. He continued, "Your quadriceps femoris, iliopsoas, and sartorius need work, you dainty little thing, and . . . "
He went on and on, spouting technical terms for leg muscles, hips, arms, and her back. She howled so hard, her sides hurt before he gave up and chuckled himself.
"I see how it is," he said, giving her braid a tug and eliciting more giggles.
When the sun finally peeked out, breaking up the marine layer, James jumped up and pulled his T-shirt over his head. Ireland couldn't help but watch the muscles bunch and roll under his golden brown skin. She thought that he must spend a lot of time outdoors with such a tan. He grabbed her hand and yanked her to her feet, handing her one of the small boards. He fastened its leash around her wrist and led her to the shore.
The water felt frigid on her bare toes. She winced.
"You'll get used to it soon enough," he said. "Follow me."
She watched as he waded into the surf before heading in his direction. He turned and faced her, catching a small wave. Its speed accelerated him towards her at a good clip. Just before he plowed into Landi, he rolled to his right, slid off the board, and popped up next to her.
"You try," he said, lacing his fingers through hers and tugging her further out into the ocean.
Ireland began to shiver while her teeth chattered uncontrollably. James encircled her waist with his arm, turning her so she faced the shore. He placed the boogie board in front of her, wrapping her hands around its front edge.
"Go!" he yelled, jumping on his own larger board.
Landi let the wave lift her, and before she knew it, they were gliding side by side to the sand. She laughed uncontrollably, sea spray stinging her eyes. They came to a stop on dry land as the wave they'd just ridden receded back into the sea. She rolled off her board, pushing herself up with her hands. Covered in sand, she wanted to go again.
They spent the rest of the morning fighting the tide, catching waves, and laughing until their sides hurt. The water no longer felt frigid, and the beach began to fill with people. After several hours, they headed to the blanket, collapsing with exhaustion. Landi lay on her back, right where she'd fallen. She was not used to so much exertion.
A Calculated Romance Page 10
